My First
by the Scarlet Shade
Summary: Without the third member of their trio, Agents Brown and Jones are no longer necessary. But suppose Smith returned?


Disclaimer: As you should well know, the Matrix and all characters of said film are the property of the Wachowski Brothers. Attempting to sue will result in your immediate termination, leaving your body to be liquefied and systematically fed to the rest of the surrounding crop. That being said, don't allow your simple human mind to forget to leave a review after reading that we may upgrade accordingly.

They stood perfectly still in the window, two intimidating statues in suits. It was raining outside, not that they needed to seek shelter from the weather. They could function in any weather when they were needed.

But they were not needed anymore. Not without the third member of their party. They had just received word that they were to return to the Source.

For deletion.

The safety of the Matrix was their sole purpose, and if their deletion would ensure that safety, then it was their duty to obey.

And yet they were reluctant. For some reason utterly foreign to them, they did not wish to be deleted, even when their very existence threatened the security of the system they had been created to protect. They were torn between following orders and running—a very human response.

Where had he gone? He couldn't be dead—he was an Agent. They came back. They _always_ came back.

So why wasn't he coming back?

Another order was broadcasted to them from the Mainframe.

"1751420-58, 1751420-42, report back to the Source immediately. The security of the Matrix is compromised by your blatant disregard of orders. You delay the upgrading of your program. Report back to the source immediately."

"We should obey," Jones said grimly.

"Yes," Brown replied simply.

"We compromise security with our hesitance."

"Selfishness; how very human."

A pause.

"Why do we hesitate?" Brown finally said, thinking aloud.

"Unknown. We were programmed to follow orders," replied Jones.

"Typical human response is self-preservation when faced with a threat on one's life. No human truly wishes to die."

"But we are not human."

"No, but do we, similarly, fear deletion?"

"…Possibly."

Footsteps approached them from behind, echoing down the empty hallway of the abandoned building they had taken refuge within. The two Agents turned towards the sound, met with shock as a familiar face emerged from the shadows, wearing the usual impassive frown.

Brown was the first to break the silence, unconsciously swallowing before uttering the program's name like a mantra, as if afraid that it might not be real. How ironic that was, when nothing there was real, not even the Agents themselves. "Smith?"

"I've been looking for you two," he said in a monotone voice that was music to their ears.

"The Mainframe is under the impression that you were deleted," Jones said, eyes narrowing in a rare moment of human expression.

"Yes," Smith's head tilted to the side slightly. "I am afraid they are mistaken. As you can see, I somehow managed to escape unscathed."

"We must contact the Mainframe and alert them that our deletion will no longer be necessary," Brown said with as much excitement as an Agent was capable of.

Smith put his hand on Brown's shoulder and did something they had never seen him do in all their years of service: he smiled. "You two were the best partners I could have ever asked for," he said as the two Agents stared at him, stunned. "That's why I want you to be my first…"

Brown looked into the dark glasses of his superior, his brow furrowing. "…Smith?"

Suddenly Smith plunged his hand into Brown's chest.

Brown's entire body shook at the impact, a strangled cry slipping from his throat, before his body went completely still. Liquid metal began to form around Smith's hand, embedded within the stunned Agent, and began to spread across Brown's chest as Smith's code began to rewrite his own. He looked up at the face of his partner in disbelief. He could feel his artificial heart begin to pound as the cold substance began to trail up his neck. Clutching the wrist attached to his chest with one white-knuckled hand and Smith's lapel with the other, he fought the pain until it rose from excruciating to unbearable as the cold embrace of metal swallowed his entire torso and begin to drift up his face like the caressing fingers of death. With one last shuddering breath, he screamed as he'd never screamed before as the metal consumed him completely.

Jones watched in horror as his partner disappeared within the liquid shell of metal, his agonized screams turning into a series of mechanical wails before fading into nothing.

Smith yanked his hand out of the quivering metal figure and watched with a twisted smile as it grew slightly and began to take a familiar shape.

The metal swept away from the body, disappearing suddenly, and where Brown had once been now stood Smith.

Another Smith.

The two identical Agents regarded each other coolly before turning to Jones, who shrunk backwards slightly. The Smith that used to be Brown grabbed the last unique Agent of the trio from behind, holding him in place as the original Smith slowly approached him.

Not that Jones would run—how could he? He had worked side-by-side with this program, sharing data, kills, even thoughts. They had been a unit, and there was no way he could suddenly forget it all and learn how to function as an individual. All he could do was watch Smith as he drew near.

"Don't struggle," the former Agent—Jones wasn't sure _what_ Smith was anymore—before him smiled ominously.

"It will all be over soon," Brown's replacement whispered in his ear.

Brown… Source, what did he do to you?

Smith thrust his hand into Jones' chest.

It wasn't the pain that shocked him, but the anguish. The sorrow that welled up in him when he looked into Smith's eyes behind his shades as his partner forcefully rewrote his own code. _This_ was death, and it was Smith who was showing it to him. With an extreme amount of effort, he managed to lift his hand and place it on Smith's shoulder, watching his partner with betrayed eyes. As the cold metal slid up his face, a strangled groan escaped from his lips before he could stop it, and then there was nothing.

Smith watched in fascination as Jones disappeared, replaced by his own likeness. After a moment of silence, Smith examined his two clones impassively, the only show of emotion being a slight rise of his eyebrows. Finally, he smiled, perversely pleased.

"Perfect…"


End file.
